The Infirmary
Evahlys' normal composure was strained and frustration seethed from her pores as she turned to face the newest arrival, "Mistress Fey, is all well?"
Fear had constricted her heart at the sight of the feral little creature that was the Groundskeeper of the Institute. Calamity must surely be near for the Unseelie-pacted Warlock to make her arrival here within the healing sanctuary of her domain. Evahlys couldn't help but imagine dead and dying students littering the hallways needing her immediate attention.
"All is RosyBaboonButts," Vesper chirped and darted through the curtain to stare down at the student who even now whimpered and thrashed as angry red welts scored his skin.
Evahlys could not wrap her tired mind around the response, instead she sought to protect the student from the invasion of his privacy by stepping between he and the curious bundle of old rags and strange smells, "Mistress Fey, I'm sorry but he needs his rest, how can I help you?"
"Oh! Oh disaster! It looks like Scorched Lice!" Vesper crowed with glee at the sight of her success and allowed herself to be ushered backwards. All around the groans and dismayed cries of students carried upon the air in a delightful symphony of misery.
"Yes, yes, we seem to have suffered an outbreak of extreme proportions..." Evahlys frowned and turned to assess the growing volume of patients. Motioning to a nearby Vaden she urged, "Quickly now, I'll need Ashriel, Danilo, Ilyona and even that young Granger that Danilo is mentoring."
She tried to remember if there were other students who had demonstrated some healing talents when she realized she'd lost track of Vesper in that momentary distraction.
A scan of the room did not turn up the Groundskeeper and just when she was beginning to head off in search an enraged bellow shattered the stillness of the air. The reverberating quality of the sonic blast shook the very foundations of the walls, the sconces creaked and the lights flickered, students screamed, moaned, or whimpered in distress as all turned toward the door through which the sound had emerged.
Hooves slammed against the stone floor as the large shaggy head of Sartha appeared in the doorway. His giant eyes rolled in distress in the bovine way that is natural only to their kind. One large clawed hand raked through the tufts of blue-tinged fur along his massive arm as a snort blew out his nostrils wide and violently.
Evahlys changed course immediately.
***
The Scorched Lice were a vicious vermin and I had deliberately let the first infected vial of vengeance be dropped along Danilo's path. How dare that Cat-Man seek to keep me from my task? I would've also sent a vial to Brais and his Brat, but I was confused by our last exchange. Were they the ones responsible for the death of my Preshuss? I couldn't remember the outcome of our conversation and this annoyed me to no end. Immediately I decided to laser my enmity upon my Ambassador for surely it was her fault that I could not understand the latest rounds of diplomatic interactions? But, alas, I chose not to hurt my little doll. She was much too valuable now and the secondary infection of Scorched Lice was an inflammation of the brain, did I dare risk losing her over a moment of irritation? No, no, I decided to focus my attentions upon the Cat-Man who had denied me entrance and his Mistress for telling him to.
The infirmary had proven to be fertile ground for such nasty little insects and it had taken but one day to enact my revenge. Giddily I giggled as I skipped through the hall and arrived at the bedsides of my little darlings. Wide-eyed they looked seconds from bolting and I realized that the noises of the enraged minotaur had startled them. I scoffed, a wicked laugh of bemusement, "No no, my preshusses, you are much much to brave and strong to be bothered by the minotaur and his itchies."
Wise little eyes took me in, one filled with suspicion, the other with curiosity. I took no time to settle myself upon the floor between their beds. Fragile and delicate in appearance I knew I offered no sign of challenge, especially seated beneath them as I was. "Who are you?" One of them boldly demanded.
It was not hard to feign hurt as I strongly felt they should know of me, "It is I, Granny Vesper."
"Granny?" Whispered one of them as she shot a surprised glance toward her sister, for the storybooks that Alaric had read to them had included grandmothers and family members that they thought fictional.
"Yes yes. Granny Vesper. You father was my preshusss son. My darling boy... and you, you two are all that I have left of him." Tears welled in the moonlit eyes as I choked around the explanation.
One of the girls had descended from her bed to circle the Warlock, pacing around behind her and instinctively giving herself the advantage in their confrontation. The other remained silent, surprise rounding wide expressive eyes.
"Are we really your granddaughters?" Came the brave voice from behind her.
Vesper slowly grinned, sharp pointy little teeth visible as she recognized the thrumming need in the quaver hidden.
"Oh yes, my darlings, you are most definitely mine."